One More Son
by Kronos-xf
Summary: This story is set during the Pilot, starting when Jake gets the school bus back to Jericho. This story seeks to fill in gaps that lead to the second episode, drawing from information that we learn later in the season in order to put words and actions into better context. This is most definitely Jake-centric! This is my first Jericho fanfic, so be kind.
1. Chapter 1

One More Son

By: Kronos-xf

Author Notes: This is a fill-in for the season one pilot episode, starting at the arrival of the school bus in Jericho. Jake centric story.

Chapter One

The red lights from the emergency vehicles flashed in step to the pounding in his head, casting an eerie glow in the darkened and now quiet bus. The sounds outside the bus filtered in as a garbled buzzing noise that only served to more greatly enforce what he knew deep down - that he was separate. Not one of them.

It took every ounce of willpower to keep upright in the seat. To keep his eyes from closing and his head from dropping to the wheel. To keep from giving up. He so wanted to give up but that had never been his way.

The kids were all safely off the bus and the firemen had just gotten Heather down the stairs and onto a stretcher. The flashing lights were playing tricks with his senses. His vision would fade to black, along with all sound, and then come back brighter than ever, with an accompanying cacophony of noise and voices.

He wondered idly how he was going to manage to move. He shifted and then realized with a jolt that he'd almost forgotten the pain in his leg. The pain all along the left side of his body and just above his left temple. And then he heard his name called and turned towards the sound, even though it sent agony arching through his body like a bolt of lightning.

"Jake."

She was there, waiting for him, and all he wanted was to fold himself into her embrace. He yearned for it - for his mom's arms wrapped around him and her loving voice telling him it would all be okay. He forced himself to move towards her, unsure just how successful he'd be.

"Mom." It came out almost like a plea - one barely above a whisper. He needed this night to be over. It represented the culmination of days of disaster and he just wanted it to end.

He turned in the seat, forcing his leg to follow. Then pushed himself to his feet. And she was there, her strong grip on his arm, helping him to stand, even as she said in obvious distress, "Oh! Your face."

He couldn't think about it. He knew it was covered in blood. But he was more worried about her. About Eric. Even about Dad. They were family - no matter what.

"I'll be alright."

"Oh, honey!" Her voice was strained, and he felt her grip tighten. Sensed her worry and fear. He wanted nothing more than to make it go away. And all through the stressful day and night, in the back of his mind was that worrisome thought that maybe one of them had been hurt.

He asked, "You okay?"

"Of course."

He put his hand up to brace himself, to try to get his balance, and saw the blood coating his hands. He hadn't really noticed it before. The sight reminded him again of the pain emanating from his leg. He pivoted, trying to maneuver so that he wouldn't get the blood on his mother. But, she didn't care. Mom was there, holding even tighter.

"Eric, help your brother."

But the hand that reached for him first wasn't Eric's - it was his father's. And for the first time, his vision expanded to see his father standing there, at the bottom of the steps. The expression on his face was one of stunned disbelief - and maybe just a bit of fear. It made no sense. The legendary Johnston Green wasn't afraid of anything. The man was probably stunned that his oldest son had done something right for a change.

Jake's voice trembled as he said softly, "Dad."

His father's strong grip was the anchor he needed to steady himself as he maneuvered from one step to the next. And just for a second, he leaned into the support his father was giving so freely.

And then Eric was there, saying, "Put your arm around me."

Jake felt a stab of disappointment at first, but then it dawned on him that his family was there. They were worried about him. And even as the EMT grabbed his other arm, he felt his mother's reassuring touch and heard her words. "Careful, careful."

Her hand on his back was a reminder of her supportive presence, even as Eric and the paramedic walked him to the ambulance.

"Easy, easy," Eric warned as they approached the entrance. It almost sounded like Eric was truly concerned about him.

Jake appreciated the caution. He could feel the sweat dripping along his face, soaking his back so his shirt stuck to his skin. The pain seemed so much worse than it had, although he knew it wasn't really the case. There were no more disasters to distract him. Jake was so exhausted - a physical and mental exhaustion. He couldn't prevent the groan that escaped when he was pulled up into the ambulance. All went dark for just a second and the voices speaking became muffled so he couldn't make out the words. But he heard his mother's voice nearby and it helped.

Then he was there - lying back on the stretcher. And it felt so good. So soft. But the glimpse of the bus, blurred as it was through the sweat in his nearly closed eyes, reminded him of another bus they'd passed on the road. The one that had filled him with even more concern for the kids who'd been in his charge.

"Hey, hey." He needed to get Eric's attention. When his brother looked up, he said, "There's an empty prison bus out there."

"Where abouts?"

"Cedar Run."

And then the paramedic guided his head down to the stretcher. The pain seemed to double down, as he allowed himself to lay back. He could barely keep from crying out and realized he was biting his lip.

Eric responded with a reassuring tone. "Okay. Just relax. We'll take care of it." And then, with a final squeeze of his leg, Eric was gone.

His mother's voice once more filled the small space. "God! Look at you. You're a mess." Her hands squeezed his left arm, as he used his right to wipe away some of the sweat rolling down his face.

He pulled his eyes up to focus on her face. He knew there were plenty of important things to worry about. He shouldn't be one of them. "It's fine. Stop worrying about me."

But her response made it clear that she considered him one of those important things. "Well, good luck with that."

He smiled as he closed his eyes and started drifting off, the feel of his mother's fingers stroking his head reminding him that he was loved - at least by one of his family members. He needed to be reminded. To know his life was worth something at least.

She gripped his hand and raised it, looking at the skinned knuckles. Then raised her eyes to his face. He met her eyes as she said in a small voice, "I was afraid I was never going to see you again."

Jake felt his chest contract for just a moment. Felt his breath quicken. He could see the tears in her eyes. He couldn't let his mother cry. He made an attempt to turn it into a joke. "Come on. You think I'd let Dad have the last word?"

His head felt so heavy he couldn't keep it up any longer. It dropped back down to the soft pad of the stretcher and he squeezed his eyes tightly, then forced them open when his father's voice filled the ambulance.

"Hey. Quit talkin' about me."

Despite the words, his father didn't seem angry.

Jake forced his head up to meet the mighty Jackson Green's eyes. And he saw it. A smile, slight as it was. There was no look of anger. No look of disappointment or recrimination. The expressions he seemed to have seen the most of when living under his father's roof. Instead, there was a small smile.

His father said,"You did a great thing out there."

His breath caught as he realized his father meant it. Jake responded in the only way he could think to, given the confusion he was feeling. "Thanks."

His breath was coming faster now and the sweat wouldn't stop coursing down his face, his neck, his back.

His father's gaze dropped when he said, "Your grandfather would have been proud."

The words stabbed through Jake as he was reminded again that he hadn't been there when his grandfather needed him. But, he knew his father didn't mean it that way. Jake watched this man who'd been the center of his world growing up, wondering if maybe, just maybe, he might hear the words he'd always wanted to hear from the man. But, he knew deep down that one accidental good deed couldn't possibly erase a lifetime of screw-ups.

His father wouldn't meet his eyes. The man said, "I'm going to see what's taking these guys so long." And then he was gone.

Jake stared at the empty doorway a moment longer, filled with the irrational desire to see his father appear once more. He felt his mother's grip tighten and knew she was upset. Jake and his father's interactions had been putting her in the middle of one battle or another for almost twenty years.

Tonight, at least, he could relieve her worry. He tried for a joking tone, despite the agony in his body and the exhaustion that pulled at his every breath. "You know, I go away for a few years and the town goes to hell." He forced a smile and small laugh, weak though it was.

His mother raised his hand and bent to kiss it. Her voice cracked as she said, "I'm glad you're home."

He couldn't tear his eyes away from the door where his father had just stood - as if perhaps the man would come back and the story would end differently. He knew that was impossible. It would end the same way it always did. With that look of disappointment. The knowledge that he was a failure.

Jake said, "Yeah, we'll see."

And then he lost the battle against gravity, as his head dropped back down of its own volition. His mother's hand was there, turning his head gently so she could see what damage had been done. He glanced at her, but then gave into the pain and hurt. The memories of the last two days forced their way into his thoughts once more and added to the pain. Memories of Freddie's face, contorted and desperate, begging him to take care of Anna. The realization that he'd failed the friend who was closer than brother was just too much. The last thing he saw was the ambulance doors closing. Then all sound and sight vanished, and he knew no more.

End Chapter One


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Gail felt her son's hand go limp in hers and called out to him. "Jake." She squeezed the hand gently. "Honey, wake up."

She stroked his forehead, avoiding the injured side, and called out once more. "You need to open your eyes, Jake. You might have a concussion."

It was clear there would be no response and she felt fear rise up from within. She'd just now gotten him back after five long years of surviving what she knew was one dangerous situation after another. He'd told her just the basics, sometimes not even telling her where he was, but she wasn't stupid. She always knew when something had happened that had scared him. Put him in danger. And now he was here, in Kansas, and he'd almost died.

She raised her hand to the divider where the driver was and pulled it open. "Hurry, Mark. He's unconscious."

She hated how her voice trembled, but she couldn't help it. After all this time, all these years, it wouldn't be fair to lose him in Jericho, of all places.

She moved her eyes up and down his body, seeing the evidence of trauma along his left side. It had to be a car accident. It was the only thing that made sense.

She gently raised his shirt and saw the dark and angry bruises already starting to form. And her breath caught when she saw just how thin her son had become, with ribs protruding. At least none of them looked to be broken. And then she saw the scar along his right side and another on his right shoulder - scars she never even knew about. How many more were there?

Gail swiped at a tear that made its way down her cheek and turned her attention to his left leg. Something had stabbed through the skin, ripping through the worn jeans, leaving an almost three inch long gash. Despite the fact that it had bled quite a bit, Jake had not taken the time to wrap it.

She shook her head and said softly, "It's okay to take care of yourself, too, you know."

She looked at the shelves and grabbed some gauze packages. Ripped them open and placed them on top of the wound. She knew they would do a much more thorough job in the ER. She just didn't want him losing any more blood on the way there.

She moved her hands up to his head and pulled out another gauze pad. She shook her head, as she gently pressed it to his temple. She felt the ambulance stop and fought the anger that flew through her. What the heck had taken so long? But, she knew the answer. They were short staffed with everyone in crisis mode.

The back doors jerked open and she caught a glimpse of April's worried face, before her daughter-in-law looked up at her.

"Mom, how is he?"

Gail waited for the attendants to pull the stretcher out so she could follow them. She was trying to form a coherent thought.

"His entire left side was involved in some impact, I assume from a car crash."

She jumped down and started walking fast to keep up with them.

"You can see the leg, he's bruised all along his left side, he seemed to be favoring his left arm, and then the wound at his left temple."

April nodded, saying nothing, while she took Jake's pulse. April and Gail stepped back while the attendants moved Jake to the ER bed, and then April was once more in charge.

"Let's get these clothes cut off." April glanced over her shoulder at a nurse. "Get an IV in him please."

April turned to her then. "Mom, why don't you wait outside. I'll come…"

Gail was shaking her head emphatically and jumped in before April could even finish. "No way. I'm here. Use me."

April took a deep breath. "Okay, get some scrubs on. You know the drill."

Gail nodded in thanks and almost ran down the hall. Only minutes later she returned to find April irrigating the leg wound, a suture kit sitting ready on a stand nearby.

Gail asked, "How is he?"

April looked up briefly before returning to the leg. "He's banged up. Definitely going to hurt for a while. But, he'll be okay. Nothing too serious."

Gail sighed, a bit embarrassed at the explosive release of air. She felt weak for a moment and had to breathe deeply to recover.

April shook her head. "This gash is a bit nasty, but there shouldn't be any permanent damage." She looked up and smiled. "He'll just need to stay off it for a while."

Gail snorted. "Good luck with that."

April's expression grew more serious. "He looks worn down. I do mean it when I say he'll need to take it easy. Rest. Eat. Drink. But, mostly rest."

Gail nodded, unable to say anything. She'd do everything in her power to keep her son safe – and well.

April gestured to the stand. "Will you prepare the sutures for me?"

Gail nodded again, happy to have something to do that could help.

The room was dark, with only the light of the moon shining in the window to provide relief. Gail felt a hand at her back and raised her head to meet her husband's eyes. They'd been sitting by Jake's side for an hour, just watching him breathe. Not even speaking.

Johnston said softly, "I have to get back to City Hall."

She could see the regret in his eyes. She understood that he'd stay if he could. She nodded. "It's okay, I know." She raised Jake's hand and bent a bit to kiss it gently. Stood and leaned over the bed to kiss his forehead.

She turned to Johnston then, saying, "He's fine. I'm going, too. I know the clinic needs help tonight."

Johnston nodded. Wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulders and turned towards the door. But he only took two steps before stopping and turning to look once more at his oldest son, laying so motionless in the bed, looking so young and innocent.

Gail could see from Johnston's expression that he was thinking the same thing she had earlier. That they could have lost their son tonight. How close they had come. She didn't mind when her husband left her side and walked to the bed. She watched as he ran his hand gently over Jake's head – this son who was more like him than he'd ever admit. Leaned close to whisper, "I'll be back, son. You get better. Your mom and I will be back real soon."

Gail smiled as he turned back to her, reaching out her hand. She looked back one last time, vowing to check on him throughout the night. This oldest son of hers had been alone long enough.

She couldn't help thinking about all those nights she'd tucked him in when he was young. And as she had then, on this night of tragedy, she whispered before closing the door, "Sweet dreams, honey."

End Chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Mayor Green, Mrs. Green."

They turned to see Teresa Clemons coming out of a door down the hall. Johnston raised a hand to take Teresa's.

The woman looked worn, but not as frantic as she'd been in the sheriff's office.

Johnston said, "Teresa, is everything alright?"

The woman smiled and gripped his hand in both hers. "Yes. Because of your son, I can say everything's going to be alright."

Johnston glanced at Gail. They hadn't really had time to find out what happened on that school bus. Johnston had seen one of the firemen carrying Stacy, but both of them had been worried about Jake and hadn't had a chance to talk with anyone.

Teresa said, "He saved my daughter. Didn't you know?"

Johnston shook his head, wondering if she meant because Jake had gotten the school bus back to town.

"Stacy got hurt when the bus crashed. She stopped breathing. Your son… Jake saved her. I don't know how he knew to do what he did, but he saved her. The doctors said she would have died. I never would have seen my little girl alive again."

Teresa had tears rolling down her face, even while her smile grew. And then it faded as she asked, "Is he okay? Where is he? I wanted to say thank you."

Gail reached a hand to the woman's arm. "He's here. He's admitted, too. But, he'll be fine in a couple days."

They could see the confusion on Teresa's face. "You mean he was hurt before he brought the bus back? Before he saved Stacy?"

Johnston's throat tightened, and the words wouldn't come. He was struggling to make sense of what had happened in light of what he knew about his son. Or thought he knew.

Gail rescued him, saying, "We're not completely sure. We think he was in a car accident before he found the bus. He hasn't been awake to ask."

Teresa shook her head. Said, "I thank God he was there. Please tell him for me." The woman looked over her shoulder at the door she'd come out of a few minutes before. Then said, "I need to get back. I don't want Stacy to wake up without me there."

And before she left, she pulled Gail close and hugged her tightly.

Gail looked at Johnston, who still seemed to be struggling with what he'd heard. "You go on. I'm going to stay and help here. And don't worry, I'll keep checking on Jake."

Johnston nodded. Tried to smile reassuringly. "You'll tell me when he wakes up, right?"

Gail said, "Of course. I'll let you know."

Johnston pulled her close for a hug before nodding. Then he turned and walked down the hallway and out of sight.

_Jake was running but couldn't get away from whatever was chasing him. He wasn't even sure what it was, but only knew that it sent chills through his being and filled him with a sense of blackness and fear. His breaths were coming in gasps. His side was on fire. But, still he ran, knowing it was right on his heals. He couldn't afford to stop, even though he was exhausted and in pain. _

_A sense of doom rose from deep inside, threatening to overtake him. He was so tempted to let it. He was so very tired of running. But the thought of giving up, as attractive as it was, just wasn't who he was. Every ounce of his being rejected it. So, he called out to the one person who he knew would have his back. Who'd saved his skin repeatedly – even as he'd returned the favor. "Freddie!"_

_And Freddie was there. He could see him in the distance, a beacon in the darkness. But, his friend wasn't responding. Wasn't calling out to him. He stood leaning against a wall, hunched over just a bit. And Jake wasn't sure what wall it was or where they were, but he knew he needed his friend by his side. "Freddie!"_

_As he ran closer, breaths coming in bursts now, almost blind from the sweat in his eyes, he was assaulted by that familiar smell that made his entire body clench. That made his stomach roll. That caused nightmares to consume him night after night. The coppery stench of blood. It invaded his nostrils and clung to his clothes._

_And then he saw it finally. Why Freddie wasn't moving. Freddie was awash in it. The blood flowed through his fingers, pumping a river of red from his stomach, down his legs, to pool on the ground below. _

"_Freddie!"_

_Jake grabbed his friend and put his hand over the wound, trying to staunch the flow. Pulled him close as he cried out. "No!"_

_He looked into Freddie's glazed eyes and saw the hurt and betrayal there. And knew that once again, he'd let down a loved one. Failed someone who'd counted on him. Trusted him to do the right thing._

"_What happened? Freddie, tell me!"_

_The man's legs gave out then and Jake grabbed his arms to guide him down the wall, laying him flat. Once again, he pushed his hands against the wound. He knew it was impossible. Knew there was no hope at all._

_Jake shook his head. This couldn't happen. There had to be something he could do. Something he could do to make this turn out differently. _

"_Freddie, hang on. I'll get help." He sobbed, even as he tried to catch his breath. "Just don't give up."_

_Freddie gripped his arm then. The words were so soft he almost couldn't make them out. "Why weren't you with me?"_

_Jake shook his head hard. Raised an arm to swipe his face on his sleeve, then once more tried to stop the blood that wasn't pumping quite so fast any more. _

"_I'm sorry, Freddie. I'm so sorry."_

_Freddie's eyes started to close. His head rolled a bit to the side. And he said, "Anna. Take care of her and the baby. Make sure they're safe."_

_Jake felt the man go limp under him. He knew. His best friend was dead and once more he'd failed. And he cried out, in agony and guilt, "Freddie!"_

_And then like a movie reel torn in two, the scene jumped and Jake was no longer with his friend. He was at a bus terminal, watching a bus in the distance and he knew that Anna was on it. He looked down and saw his hands still covered in blood – soaked in it. Freddie's blood. And then, before his eyes, the bus exploded in a fiery ball of death. He felt himself slammed against the ground, his head making contact with the asphalt. His entire left side was on fire. And something had stabbed him in the leg. But, none of the hurts could compare to losing Freddie – and Anna._

_And again, as he lay crying on the hard ground, watching the fireball through slit eyes, he knew he'd failed his friend, just as he'd failed everyone in his life. His life that was worth less than nothing. _

_And he cried out in his pain and hurt, "Freddie!" _

End Chapter 3


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Gail finished with the last of the children from the bus. Thankfully, the only serious injury was Stacy. The other few kids who were brought to the clinic had only bumps and bruises. But, all of them asked after the man who'd saved them. They all wanted to see him. To know his name and who he was. And the look of awe and admiration on their faces made it clear that to these children, Jake was a hero. She reassured them all that they'd see him in a couple days, once he was better.

She smiled as she reached for the handle to Jake's room, but quickly became aware of Jake yelling out from inside. Gail flung the door open and froze, trying to reconcile what she was seeing and hearing. Jake was obviously in the throws of a what could only be a night terror. The only word or name she could clearly make out was 'Freddie.'

She ran to the side of her son's bed just as he launched himself to a sitting position. She saw him reeling, took in the sweat coating him, the nauseous expression, and grabbed for the bowl sitting on the table next to the bed.

She grabbed him by the shoulders and guided him over the bowl just as he lost what little liquid he had in his stomach.

"Jake, honey. Take it easy. You're alright. Try to breathe." She continued with her reassurances, even as he continued to gag, seemingly unaware of her presence or even where he was.

She put the bowl down once more and took her son's face in her hands. "Look at me, honey. Look at me, Jake."

But he was looking through her to some distant place she couldn't go or fathom. Tears streamed down his face to mix with the sweat. His hair was matted and blood that had dried from his head wound now mixed with the sweat to run again down his face in tiny rivulets. His eyes were wide but unfocused and his breaths came in bursts.

Tears filled her eyes as she realized he was lost in some hell of his or another's making.

"Jake, please, honey. Come back to me. I'm here. I'm right here."

And then he jerked away and his eyes seemed to finally focus. He took a deep shuddering breath and said, voice cracking and shaking, "Mom?"

But before she could even feel relief at his awareness, he pulled back from her, out of her arms. And then he was crying and rubbing at his hands. He moved to get out of bed and she tried to stop him.

"No, Jake. Stay in bed. You're not strong enough yet." She knew he hadn't eaten or had anything to drink. She had ample evidence of that fact. But, he was pushing her out of the way, with his arms. He was holding his hands up awkwardly, as if he didn't want to touch her. And she realized it was the same thing he'd done on the bus.

"I have to get clean. I have to wash off the blood."

She shook her head in confusion. Tried to take his hand in hers, but he wouldn't let her. "There's no blood, Jake. Look. No blood."

He just shook his head. "No, I need to get clean." And then he met her eyes and she could see how important it was. That his entire being yearned to be clean. "Please, Mom."

She nodded. "Okay, okay. I'll help."

He dropped his head to her shoulder then and she felt him nod. Felt his arms drop. Felt the shudders still going through his too thin frame. Felt him almost collapse before he stiffened his back and forced himself to sit upright once more.

She removed the IV and helped him swing sideways. He paused there, slumped over, with his hands upright in his lap. She wondered what he was seeing, but knew that it involved his hands coated in blood.

Gail didn't say anything. She'd finally understood that the blood her son was talking about wasn't in the here and now. And the pain of that knowledge – that at some time in the past five years her boy had been in such danger, covered in blood, desperate to get clean, made her want to fold him in her arms. To tell him it would all work out. That he would be fine. But, she didn't even know if he was even going to stay. Didn't know what the future would hold for any of them.

Instead, she said, "The showers are working for now, but you need to be quick. Do you need help?"

Jake raised his eyes to hers and she bit her lip. They were practically swollen shut. He dropped his head and shook it. "I'll be fine. I need clothes."

She opened her mouth to argue with him. To tell him he needed to stay in bed for another day. But a quick look at the clock told her it was almost dawn and a glance at this face told her it was useless. Eric had brought a set of clothes earlier. She picked them up and walked into the bathroom, setting them on the counter. She grabbed a towel and placed it on top. Got the water running for him.

"Try to keep the wound on your leg dry if possible. I'll wrap it again when you're done."

He was there, then. At her side, leaning back against the door to the bathroom. When she looked up at him, she could see the weariness there. The hurt. The pain from memories he'd rather have left behind.

She gently wrapped her arms around him and took his hand in hers. He fought it briefly but she forced the issue. Brought his hand up and kissed the back. She hoped he'd get the message. In her eyes, his hands were clean. And she loved him, no matter what.

Jake looked at her for a moment, in shock, in wonder… and then nodded. Maybe he got the message. She hoped with all her being that he did.

Ten minutes later, Gail had finished changing the sheets on the bed. There wasn't much she could do for her son, but at least she would make sure he could lay down on crisp clean sheets when he came back.

She looked up as the bathroom door opened, afraid at what she was going to see. But, he gave her a quick smile – that sideways one that always melted her heart. He stood on his right leg, leaning against the door and she wasn't at all certain he'd be able to make it to the bed on his own.

She dropped the pillow on the bed. Rushed over to pull his arm around her shoulders. "Oh, Jake."

"Don't worry about me, Mom. I'm fine."

She shot him a dirty look. He'd just scared another year or two off her life.

"It's still early and you need to rest. Come lay back down again and I'll get your leg."

He was in boxers and a t-shirt, both so baggy they must have been Eric's. The jeans were in his hands. He nodded, saying nothing. But his arm tightened briefly around her shoulder.

"Jake…"

"No."

She decided to wait until after he was completely settled.

"I'll be right back. I need to get some supplies for that leg."

When she returned not five minutes later, she found him fast asleep, draped awkwardly with one leg hanging off the side of the bed. She smiled and shook her head. Trust this oldest boy of hers to get out of hard conversations by falling asleep.

She settled him in bed as best she could. Took care of the wound in his leg. And then brushed the hair back from his face. With a final kiss, she whispered, "This isn't over, you know. You better be here when I get back, because you owe me an actual conversation."

She pulled the blankets up and dropped the jeans on a chair. Grabbed the things that needed to be cleaned and headed out of the room. She looked back as she was leaving, knowing that at least for this day, he would be safe. At least for now, he would be with them. But soon… soon they'd have that talk. It was time for this son of hers to know he wasn't alone.

Jake woke abruptly, knowing there was something he had to do. He wasn't sure yet what it was, but he knew he had to get up and moving.

He sat up slowly, taking a quick assessment. There was only a slow throb in his head. His side and arm were sore but he could move without too much pain. And his leg… well, he'd be limping for a while, but he'd had worse. In the grand scheme of things, he knew he'd gotten off easy.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat slumped for a moment collecting his thoughts. And then memories flooded through him. He remembered last night. Remembered his mother walking in on him during his… dream. Shame washed through him and he groaned at the realization that he'd revealed more than he'd ever intended. And he knew his mother. Gail Green would not let this go.

He sighed and looked up. Became aware of all the noises inside and out. Voices out in the hallways and a strange scratching from behind him. Jake turned to look out the window. There was a tree swaying in the wind and a branch kept scratching at the window. He watched for a moment and then pushed himself to his feet. He headed straight to the window, realizing finally what his subconscious had already known needed to be done.

Fall-out. Had anyone checked to see whether there was fall-out from Denver? And now it looked like a storm might be on the way. The wind wasn't strong yet, but he needed to get a clear view to the west. And he knew it had to happen soon. There might not be much time. He had to keep his family safe. And the town. It was time these people got his best. They deserved it. At least for as long as he stayed in Jericho.

Jake pulled the jeans on, taking care of his wounded leg. He had to cinch the belt as tight as it would go. Then sat and pulled his boots on, lacing them quickly. He took time to drink a glass of water, then headed out. He knew his mother wouldn't be happy with him, but she'd get over it. Eventually. Right now, he was going to take advantage of the knowledge gained from his youthful transgressions. He knew just where the ladder was to the roof of the medical center. And from there, he'd have a clear view all the way to the northwest. Towards Denver.

He limped out of the room and headed outside thinking of only one thing. He had to keep his family safe. After all the screw ups, the disappointment, the hurt he'd caused… after failing Freddie and Anna, he had to at least keep these people safe. Maybe, just maybe, it would make up in some small way for all his failures.

Jake gripped the iron ladder rung and stepped up with his good leg. With every pull on the ladder that caused his side to burn, with every step that shot pain through his leg, he reminded himself that he wasn't important. His life was nothing. But his family… his friends… Emily… they were everything. And he would do anything to keep them safe.

The End

_Author's Note: This was intended to get Jake from the school bus to the beginning of the second episode, where he sees the storm coming from Denver. I hope you've enjoyed. I'll be tackling more fill-in stories as I move through the episodes. It's been a very long time since I've written any fanfic, so I'm rusty. I look forward to improving with practice! And I do love Jake Green._


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